Broken Normalcy
by Panda musume
Summary: Furukawa Koto desired normalcy. She valued observing people from afar and interpreting their actions. And in order to preserve that normal life, she learned of things not to do in Ikebukuro. That is, to never get involved with un-normal people. That is, to never go near a place with lampposts. That is, to never get involved with Izaya fucking Orihara./rated T/ Dropped
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hey guys! So this is my first Durarara fic, haha.

If it's bad, burn me, flay me alive, virally punch me, orrrrrrrrrrr leave a critique xD whatever makes your day. This is only an experimental fic ^^so if I like it so far, I'll keep writing ^^.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN DURARARA. . .OR IZAYA ORIHARA'S BRAIN (as much as I would like to own it)

Enjoy~

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Broken Normalcy

Ch. 0: Prologue

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Furukawa Koto desired _normalcy._

And she worshipped that normalcy with every fiber in her body. Although more specifically, it had become a second-hand wish with unknown origins that was completely devoid of its original cause.

To put in it simpler terms, it was completely _random_.

Truly, her sudden desire for normalcy wasn't really _that bad_, if not unexpected (despite the fact that she still didn't know where it came from). Perhaps, it was because of her observations on other people and their lives. Humans beings, how they moved, talked, changed, _developed_. Happy one moment, then angry the next; they were the personification of raging thunder storms. Witnessing the drama that had rampaged throughout their lives was so amusing up to the point where she must've made_ herself_ too lazy to deal with troublesome ordeals such as those. Or perhaps, it was because she found them too amusing to watch, rather than experience them herself. Although Koto had already undergone most of her conflicts earlier in her life—having to deal with things she would rather bury under the million pieces of sketches on her desk—she at least had a human understanding as to what they were going through, be it vaguely or with a strong interpretation. She was just too lazy to go through them again. Observing the people around her only made her gain another interest in relation to their unique nature.

They were unpredictable.

Unpredictable and incredibly twisted, this was her outlook on the human race. Everyone—even the most innocent had a twinge of dark thoughts.

If they didn't, then they were aliens.

It was fascinating_, to_ _see_—watch them develop; _struggle_. Watch as they handled their own problems while seemingly holding the weight of their worlds on a deceiving balance scale.

She regarded herself as no different. After all, she was only human too, and as a fellow human, she quickly accepted the fact that she was not perfect by the age of ten and slowly adapted it to her regular lifestyle.

And at some point in her life, observing her peers from her desk had become a constant past-time as she went through the instinctual movements of observing, uncovering, and predicting. But as she went through the process day by day, she realized that she had never done anything to stop or interfere in another person's problems, be it for the good or the bad. To be honest, why should she? None of their problems had anything to do with her. If anything, it would only put her through unnecessary conflicts that weren't relevant to her personally. If it was in relation to Koto herself, then that would be a totally different story as she went on leading quite a regular life since after middle school, high school, and college, frequenting the library and the art rooms even after she had graduated, and she would sometimes look back and ask herself questions.

_Had she ever changed?_

Perhaps—perhaps not. She was still the same. Akward, aloof Koto-san from the art room. A divine introvert who took the coward's way. But she never fretted over the idea, considering the fact that her one wish was to live a simple, easygoing life as an artist with the other inhabitant of her house being her cat (bless her beloved Marshmallow). Rather, what was there to stress about? Like the other people that she had observed time and time again, they always worried over trivial things; getting boyfriends and taking tests. It's not like they weren't a big deal; Koto just considered them as. . .unimportant when she thought about it.

_Especially_ in Ikebukuro, where fascinating people lurked and went about their days, Koto found it to be the perfect place for her observations and her work, considering the fact that Ikebukuro was indeed an advertising city. It was, if she had to put an exact opinion on it—_different_. Although the first time she moved into the city (which was around middle school), she was slightly overwhelmed by the dangers that quickly outweighed the positives. Nevertheless, she came to the unshocking realization and understanding that she was, in fact, a _weakling_. A tiny, insignificant little human who could sign her fate anytime to a car crash or an unfortunate kidnapping. A tiny, insignificant human who was only a piece, an easily replaceable piece of a whole. And being surrounded by several members of a gang in an abandoned alley was at the very _bottom_ of her list that time. If not for the fact that the police patrolling the area were miraculously at the scene, she would've gotten out with just more than a bruised arm. And the fact that she was so quickly incapacitated didn't sit well with her. Acknowledging her weak self was one thing, but _staying _that way was even more infuriating. At that rate, her normal lifestyle would crumble and she would possibly be at home all the time cowering in fear! And because she was Furukawa Koto, she wanted to preserve her _normal life_, and immediately took lessons from a family friend who lived around the area, although it took a good hour to persuade him into letting him teach her—despite the welcome that she got from his friends.

Bless his soul, Dotachin.

Adapting to the city was a bit of a struggle, but once she really set down and unpacked, that exact moment was when she felt the exhilaration and excitement hit her. The rumors, the people, the _problems_ in Ikebukuro. _They _were_ fascinating_; walking around like ants, and yet they had so much potential inside of them—she wanted to do nothing more but observe. Indeed, it was nothing short of boring. The events that went on, the dangerous people on the streets—the inspirations for her paintings.

Pure bliss.

However, sadly enough, her normal Ikebukuro-esque life was unfortunately about to come to an end, much to her own obliviousness at the time.

If she had known that her normalcy was coming to an end beforehand, she doubted she would've been able to avoid them anyway, and would have most likely chosen her usual cowardly route and avoid it as long as possible. However, she knew very well and very clearly of the one mistake that she had made when it came to living life in observant normalcy.

That is, to _never _get involved with un-normal people.

That is, to _never_ go near a place with light poles.

That is, to_ never_ engage in a fight between Ikebukuro's strongest man and most dangerous information broker.

That is, to _never_ get involved with Izaya _fucking _Orihara.

Well, all she had to say was that _karma was a bitch._

But then again, wasn't this what made her life much more interesting?

Didn't this make her, the _introvert_, Furukawa Koto, realize that she _herself_ was apparently _not normal_?

Now that alone was terrifying enough.

* * *

A/N: So yeah, this is just the prologue, but. . .yeah. . .I like writing this so far xD

til next time~


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Ch 1 is up!

**Shadow Knight1121, **Thanks!

**Guest, **thank you!

**Guest, **haha, and updates you shall get *pulls derpy face*

**Important: **To all guest readers out there, please don't just label yourselves as** guest**, I didn't really address this problem with my other stories before, but it would be very help to distinguish the wonderful guest readers so that when I reply to your reviews, I will know that I am not replying twice to a person lolz xD

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN DURARARA OR IZAYA ORIHARA'S WONDERFUL BRAIN

Enjoy~

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Broken Normalcy

Ch. 1: Un(lucky)

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Furukawa Koto was a Virgo. Just being one said so many unnatural things that she didn't pay any mind to. Just being one made her realize too late that she should start watching the daily horoscope on her television. Just being one made her very, very unlucky. And today's horoscope just so happened to say that Virgo's should not go outside.

Did she follow through with this request that just had conveniently lodged itself in between her mind and painting?

Hell no.

She pressed a button on her remote control and the television was turned off with an abrupt beep. Hauling herself from her desk full of paintings, Koto grabbed a bag, lazily combed her hands through her raven-colored hair, and proceeded to walk out the door after feeding Marshmallow.

No way in hell was she going to waste her time loitering around in her room when she had_ absolutely no idea _what to draw.

Little did she know that this was the first step that broke her normalcy.

* * *

"Eat sushi! Sushi good for you!"

She found herself accepting the flyer after absentmindedly walking through the streets. Her hazy mind only registered the fact that she had indeed traveled a little farther than she intended to. Shopping and her didn't go so well, so she resorted to aimlessly walking around until some form of inspiration hit her so that she could go home and finish up her painting before her personally set deadline was up.

Quite truly, inspiration did hit her.

Literally.

As much as she would like to say about the day, it was difficult to completely process as to what had just happened when you collide into someone holding a light pole about three times said person's size. And Koto, completely caught off guard, fell ungracefully on her bottom, uttering no sound as she brought her eyes up to the hovering figure who looked far too enraged to be concerned about her presence at the moment.

"_I-za-ya!"_

Scratch that, he was _pissed_, and for her own safety, Kto quickly pulled herself up and proceeded to walk (run) away. Her eyes trailed back to the scene, then noticing a pair of red eyes on her. A man with a long jacket and black hair that was darker than hers glanced at her for a moment before trailing his eyes back to the big guy in the bartender's uniform.

By the rumors, _oh yes_, she knew.

Izaya Orihara.

_Which means_, Koto trailed her eyes to the person in the bartender's uniform for a moment, knowing the fearsome rumors that enveloped the two figures.

_Oh shit._

But before she could launch herself into the crowds of curious eyes and do a full Jackie Chan sprint home in a desperate attempt to preserve the fact that she was just a passerby residence of Ikebukuro, she felt a hand encircle her wrists and forcefully pull her along her to the middle of the street. Her eyes lingered to the ground, dazed, confused, and whirling with thoughts.

She was literally in between _Heiwajima Shizuo and Orihara Izaya_. She was right in between two giant balls of raging storms and thunder, and she was the tiny, insignificant leaf that acted as a witness to their wrath at any given moment. One of the blasts' of raging thunder was Heiwajima Shizuo, who, still frankly, was_ crushing_ the light pole in his hands rather than holding it as he panted. And the other blast of thunder was right behind her, her back being pressed into his chest as she felt a faint smirk on the man behind her while he still kept a tight hold on her wrists, also lightly panting while holding a—_flick-blade_ (Koto stilled for a moment) in his other hand.

So, deeming this as a hostage situation, Furukawa Koto resigned herself to thinking that the Gods' had taken a vacation and had forsaken her to be at the mercy of two very, _very_ unpredictable people. Her martial arts be damned, she couldn't drag attention to herself _now_.

She would've actually taken the time to observe and _enjoy_ their actions if not for the fact that the only thing protecting her from being hit by a light pole was the fact that she had Ikebukuro's most powerful information broker behind her, cradling her wrists in a delicate but uncaring manner.

That was good. She didn't need his attention.

Even so, having her back to Izaya Orihara was the equivalence of letting a serial murderer in her house.

"What will you do now, Shizu-chan?" Izaya smoothly chirped and slowly caressed Koto's wrists. "If you throw that now you'll hurt poor Koto-chan and her beautiful hands."

Koto raised an imaginary eyebrow.

_He knew her name?_ Actually, that shouldn't come to her as a surprise. He was an information broker—and a very powerful one at that. He probably even know her three sizes. . .Koto sighed, albeit too exasperatedly to be fear-ridden as she threw the thought away and crushed it in the cornermost area of her mind. She was a divine introvert. Her aloofness was just another convenient part of her that allowed herself to stay, well, _sane_ when the time called for her to be smashed in between a brawl with Ikebukuro's strongests'. And being in the middle of a large-scale quarrel was at the _bottom_ of her list, no matter how distanced she may have seemed.

She just wanted to find some inspiration for her art.

So how the _hell _did it end up to be like this?

How the hell did she manage to be the one unlucky person to be picked to be the shield of _Izaya fucking Orihara?_

Koto sighed bitterly and stared dully ahead, remembering the horoscope channel.

She should've listened.

Izaya blinked for a moment when he saw her sigh, and then curved the corners of his lips upward into a smile.

It was then that Shizuo finally took the moment to look at Koto's face—after spewing some very colorful language towards the object of his hate. And truly, he seemed to be in the middle of a heated internal conflict with himself, and Koto wondered whether or not he was _actually considering _the possibility of throwing the crushed light pole in her way. _Wait_, was he really thinking about that?

Going down like that—how would Marshmallow survive without her?

But before she could process anything else, she felt the hands on her wrists spin her around and force her legs into a full-blown sprint as they blew past the bewildered spectators. Koto could hear the rage _emanating _off of Heiwajima Shizuo.

"_IZAYA!"_

Koto felt some sort of pity for the blonde haired man as he continued to vividly and loudly curse (while also throwing the light pole in a nearby building), although that thought soon left her once she assessed the current situation at hand. Her mind no longer dazed or numb; myriads of thoughts beginning to race through her head as she processed the way that her legs were quickly tiring. She casted an observant look as to_ who_ was in front of her again, and immediately, one thought stood out from the rest, blaring like a red police siren in the very innermost depths of her mind.

That is, to not get involved with Izaya Orihara any further.

And acting on pure instinct, Furukawa Koto tugged harshly on the arm that was leading her, forcefully making then skid to a sudden stop. She stopped for a moment to catch her breath, purposely ignoring the calculating smile and the narrowed eyes that expected an answer. Seemingly, she was too drained to care for whatever mystery they held anymore.

"Orihara-san. . .using me as a shield was a bit cruel wasn't it?" She asked, still struggling to catch her breath.

His lips were still quirked up in between some sort of smirk and half-smile. "But Koto-chan, you looked like you needed some _inspiration,_ right? Didn't I get what you wanted?" Izaya said smoothly.

"There was no reason at all to grab me _specifically_. . ." She emphasized the last part on her behalf. Still unknowing of his true personality, perhaps she took a rather daring approach (coming from a person who had to use her cat to kill spiders in the house). Inspiration? Yes, she got it. She had the inspiration of fear and the will to run away. _"I don't see the point in it." _She grumbled slightly, and then contemplated walking away. But wouldn't that be too rude?

Well, seemingly as to how she was used as a human shield today, walking out on him wouldn't be that bad, right?

"Koto-chan, you seem to be misunderstanding something." Izaya _purred_. "_I_ would've been hit if I didn't grab you specifically. _You,_" he pointed an accusing finger, "didn't struggle."

"Wouldn't that be the most rational thing to do? She cast a cautious look at him. "Heiwajima-san seemed to be pissed. I didn't want to be one of the people on the receiving end of that."

His smile never faltered, neither did her exhaustion as he simply pranced around her, stopping to _hug _her from behind. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as she proceeded to crane her head over, only to see narrowed eyes scrutinize her laidback profile.

Disinterest. That was the only thing that she could see. And seemingly, without his so-called _Shizu-chan _to poke fun at anymore. . .he needed someone else to take his place for the time being. . .

_Shit._

His voice stooped—or rather,_ raised_—to a girlish level.

"Koto-chan, did you know?" his voice _dripped_ with exaggeration.

She was too preoccupied with trying to get out of his grip—or embrace.

"_Cowards are liars."_

The mood immediately took a sharp turn downwards.

Her eyes gravitated to the fur lining his hood as she absentmindedly murmured, "Really?"

A thought traveled through her mind. She brushed it away.

Izaya lowered his head and brought his mouth dangerously close to his ear. "You want it, don't you?"

Koto remained impassive, ignoring the way her palms suddenly dampened. "Orihara-san, that's wrong on so many levels."

He ignored her, waving an entertained hand, "Wouldn't you rather experience it all for yourself, again? Or—are you afraid of getting involved again because you're afraid?"

Koto stiffened. _He knew._ Just like he knew that he would receive this type of reaction from her—and _she knew._ That look. The look that was so familiar like her own when she found an object of interest to observe and interpret. He had just found his new _toy_. . .and it happened to be her.

Dammit.

She knew to an extent just how far his persuasion got him. . .And somehow, she wondered just how much information that Izaya Orihara had in his hand—seeing as to how he knew about her private life. . .

Izaya hummed again, "Hey, Koto-chan."

Surprisingly, she managed a reply when he buried his nose against her neck. "Yes?"

It was muffled, but she still heard it; the movements of his articulating lips.

"_You're disgusting."_

The mood took another turn,_ supposedly_ for the worse.

And the way his voice seemed to be even more carefree when he said it made her think upon the many people that she had tried to observe. And, apparently, she could _barely_ read him—and that only induced an unwanted smile to creep onto her face. She knew what this was. He wasn't the only one who took an interest in observation. He wanted to see what kind of reaction she would bring and—and—

She couldn't see the way his eyes narrowed when he saw her smile.

—She actually_ wanted_ to know more about this raging ball of storm that could incinerate her with lightning at any given moment.

The logical voice in the back of her head spoke.

_What happened to normalcy?_

And as much as half of herself wanted to quite literally_ rip_ out of his grip and make a dash for home, _something_ pulled her back, and it was by no means a good force. It was the force of curiosity at its finest that had grasped her by the neck many times when she was little and flung her around until she completely observed and predicted a person's actions.

But—this was no ordinary person. This was Izaya _fucking_ Orihara. The very person that could ruin her life if he so dared lifted a finger, and then _everything_—her normalcy, her life, her very being would be controlled by him as he watched her break under his shoes.

Just like that, whichever choice she would make would both set in her a large spiral of unpredictable. And neither one of the decisions that she would choose could shake him off of her tail. _He _was the impeccable force that was hell-bent on torturing her until she finally died, and she couldn't run away from that.

But even if Furukawa Koto desired _Normalcy. _She also desired the action of observation. The art of interpreting and predicting the actions of humans at their peak or at their limits, and then converting their struggles into paintings. And Izaya Orihara was—to briefly summarize—one of the people in Ikebukuro that she _instinctually_ took interest in.

She was drawn to the very force that dared to mow her down to the ground.

Therefore, Orihara Izaya was a bastard.

For making her have this raging conflict inside of her, curiosity and logic ripping her apart until she made a decision that would only favor one side. And in between it all, it hadn't even come to her knowledge that she let out a laugh as she thought about the irony of it all.

She wanted _Normalcy_, but she couldn't have the other.

She wanted the _risk _of Observation, but the she couldn't have the other.

Damn Izaya Orihara for ruining her normal routine that she had so preciously held onto for so long—and it was all crushed in approximately an hour—from the moment she left her house.

Returning to reality, apparently, some part of her wasn't aware that her laughing fit hadn't stopped as it came out in waves and waves of frustration and hysteria. She felt the pair of arms around her twitch. She was too preoccupied with covering her mouth to see the way Izaya's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, his ever-present smile still on.

"My, my, Koto-chan. Isn't someone off of their rails." He said, and willingly let Koto out of his grip, the latter shuffling back a few steps with flushed cheeks packed with embarrassment.

_Akward, aloof Koto-san from the art room._

Apparently, her self-control went out of the window as well, and Koto inwardly cursed, reverting back to her impassive state as she felt the pair of calculating eyes staring into her soul; his hands leisurely sitting in his pockets as he studied her. Certainly, he had _not _expected that reaction. . .

Then. . .she was—unpredictable?

_No._

_Normal people_ aren't supposed to be like that.

But she did have a moment of—_something._

Another thought sneaked into her mind. A classroom. Koto brushed it away and instead focused on unclenching her fists.

"Orihara-san."

He was still smiling that unpleasant smile. He hummed.

Her mouth opened to form words; her tongue moving, her hands sweating, her heart daring to burst out of her chest—

And she still managed to pull off a small smile.

"As fellow cowards, I will be your toy. In exchange, I'll take you down with me."

Apparently, giving up her normalcy just for uncovering one of Ikebukuro's strongest was the first step into realizing the fact that she, Furukawa Koto, was _not normal._

And she was most definitely stupid, for wanting to see what he—of all people—would do in his breaking point. How he would act.

But apparently, she was not above realizing that he was doing the same with her.

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A/N: and ch 2 is done. . .

Why. Just why is it so hard to write Izaya-kun!? .

OKAY. So when Koto means by "As fellow cowards, I will be your toy. In exchange, I will take you down with me." She means that she won't stray from his side until she's actually _seen_ him. Like, as in seeing _what_ he's going to do at his "breaking point," and observing him up to the point where she can read his movements (which is highly unlikely). Likewise for Izaya.

So basically, they're _using _each other xD

And sorry if my OC seems OOC. She's the type of person, despite being aloof and y'know. . .akward xD She's a determined person once she _really_ sets her mind on something she wants to do lolz. PLEASE let me know if she's kinda Mary-sueish. I try to make my OC's as far from those as possible lolz

Is Izaya too shallow?! I think I made him too shallow. . .and I rushed the ending :/

I might rewrite this chapter, because I think that the whole concept that I based this chapter off of seems unreal xD

Hope this wasn't too. . .ya know, terrible lolz

Til next time~


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Ch 2 is up!

**Shadow knight1121, **Thanks xD!

**Awesome,** Thanks ^^

**Mysterylover2427,** Thanks! And yea, I'm most likely going to continue this story xD

**LadyDeadmau5, **Thanks! I find it very hard to write Izaya (well, I find it hard to write every Durarara character) sooo. . .xD

**ChaoticDiamond, **Thank you! ^^

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN DURARARA OR IZAYA ORIHARA'S MAGNIFICIENT BRAIN

Enjoy~

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Broken Normalcy

Ch. 2: Offers and Heiwajima Shizuo

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_She felt the eraser shavings around her desk to be much more interesting to observe rather than the faces staring into her private bubble. Each eraser shaving representing a person. Each person representing a color._

_Miyamoto Kaori was a simple blue. She was calm and focused, but easily brought down by her peers because of her family being outrageously poor. Her eyes were vibrant and stunningly patient; something Koto amused in because of Kaori-san's silent outbursts. Clenching her fists when she was angry, the slight twitch of her jaw, the miniscule huffs of breath that she took in order to secretly calm herself; observing her had made her feel somewhat strange._

_Takeguchi Watari was a dark purple. He was an aloof character and frequently spent time alone in the library, where he always looked at medicine books. Koto had always noticed his cautious eyes and involuntary twitches that were mostly instinctive whenever he was nervous. He wanted to be a doctor in order to find more treatments for his mother's illness. Judging by the rumors and the books she stole glances at, Mrs. Takeguchi had tuberculosis. . ._

_Etc. Etc. Etc._

_She flicked them off of her desk, the pencil shavings dropping onto the ground; one by one, like falling dominos._

_Her eyes, now glazed over impassively, turned upwards unto the crowd of students that were staring at her. Probing her personal bubble and breaking like it was nothing._

_Ostracize: To exclude from a group or society._

_That sounded nice. They wouldn't come closer to her, but chose to watch her from afar, and she would relish in the world of observation. Her own little world of artful perseverance and simplicity. The classmates in her room, safe in their personal social networks; away from the skeptical, away from the obvious, away from the observant._

_Two pencil shavings remained._

_No one stayed. That's why she was the first one to leave before she could develop unnecessary thoughts._

_No one but Miyamoto Kaori and Takeguchi Watari stayed by her involuntary side, peacefully situated on the border of distance, yet just enough to be near her. They didn't involve themselves, they didn't know of her problems. They stayed. The personifications of blue and purple swirling together, silently trying to pry her grey apart and absorb it into them._

_Never was that happening again._

_Because one was dead, and the other was—_

"_**Furukawa, you're a coward."**_

"_**I know."**_

_No pause. No hesitation. No interference. It was simply the exchange of words between two individuals before she was the first to turn tail and leave for the safe confines of her apartment. Because she was Furukawa Koto. A divine introvert; a legendary coward._

_Because she was Furukawa Koto; an observer of the world. An involuntary suspect of tragic ends._

_That's why Normalcy was always so much better._

* * *

Furukawa Koto was by no means stupid.

She knew how to get out of situations with careful analysis and observation. Should it make a turn for the worse, improvisation was always a welcome idea. However, that was not the case here. In fact, her problem seemed quite simple, if not confusing. However, the person causing her trouble seemed to hold no limits at all. Her large yet endearing problem lied in the frustratingly simple fact that the very enigma she swore to look into simply wouldn't _Leave. Her. Alone._

A knock. "Koto-chan~."

She stayed in her room, swishing her paintbrush onto her palette before beginning her ritual process of test, test, swirl, and then place it on canvas.

Another enthusiastic knock. "Koto-chan, I know you're there."

She placed her paintbrush down next to her palette and made a reach for her phone, which was very far away from her desk, and she failed splendidly in an attempt to make a grab for it.

_Thump._

A pair of red eyes hovered over her as she blinked away the stars moving over her head.

"Orihara-san." She said impassively. Her eyes slowly trailed upwards to her phone. . .which was still on top of her desk. Fuck.

He broke out into a smile, "Koto-chan."

She frowned. "It's rude to break into people's houses without permission. I could sue you for that."

He waved her off, making no attempt to help her up. "Geez, you make me sound like such a hostile person!"

Koto pushed herself up into a half-sitting position, using her elbows as leverage as she briefly felt Izaya's hair brush against her forehead. Her hair was a mess, she realized as she then looked at her hands, which were caked in paint. She rubbed them on her stained apron. "What did you come here for?"

His ever-present smile seemed to be permanently glued to his face. "Straight to the point I see." He clapped his hands together. "Now then, Koto-chan, what if I said I wanted you to do me a favor?"

"No." She spoke while continuously wiping off the red paint from her hands.

He paused for a second, his eyelids lowering for a moment before returning to its original state, "Really?" he sneered, "I thought you wanted to _risk it?_ Didn't you want to see me break?"

"Isn't that what you're trying to do with me too, Orihara—"

"_Izaya_." He corrected, lifting a casual finger as he stood up and settled himself on her bed.

"Izaya-san." She began peeling off her apron. "You're not stupid. Are you really planning to ask me this when my answer is clearly no?" She had become extremely cautious, waiting for his every turn, the moves he would make, knowing that he controlled her, and she had little say over that.

Maybe meeting one of Ikebukuro's strongests had made her gain some sort of will to talk back.

Then again, wasn't that bad as well?

Izaya shrugged half-heartedly. "As _fellow cowards_—I believe those were your words—I would like you to do me a favor. I'll do the same for you, of course. Sometime later."

Koto paused, her head craning over to glimpse at the black clad figure on top of her bed as her eyes found her way to his. The easy-going, yet calculating stare that he was giving her made something uncomfortable pool into her stomach as she stared back equally, calculating, forming observations in her head; his sitting pattern, the way he spoke, the small flickers of something foreign yet fearful gleam through his eyes. Of course, she would never accept the deal, unless she owed him something; then it wasn't her business to acquiesce. Naturally, she imagined his _favors _being too elaborate and downright scary for her liking. After all, she was not stupid. Her self-preservation and elaborate planning of retaining a "normal life" practically revolved around the prospect of avoiding un-normal people.

Example number one was laying on her bed.

And before she knew it, she felt a hand grab her waist and pull her down onto the bed as well, feeling his breath tickling her hair as they continued staring at each other; calculations, observations, skepticism.

Koto was the first one to break eye contact, making no move in removing his arm. "No."

It was quiet.

His eyes narrowed for a moment before returning to their original state. "Really?"

Marshmallow walked into the room and pounced. Izaya left with three claw marks on his right cheek.

* * *

A paintbrush fell, clattering onto the floor. Koto flinched.

It had been happening all day. Her unnoticeable but definite flinches whenever something hit the ground; the way her eyes almost widened a fraction whenever she looked out the window, the feeling that she was being watched.

Her list of worries were surprisingly endless.

Damn Izaya Orihara. It was the way that he looked at her. That sly, yet underlying look that practically screamed (from years of observation) "we'll see about that" when she refused his offer. Seemingly, she was suffering from his previous words at the moment, feeling jittery feelings all over as she played back the scenario for the millionth time in her head, reanalyzing the look in his eyes, the intentional ominous gleam that he had preserved for her.

"_My, my, Koto-chan. Isn't someone off their rails."_

She felt the corners of her mouth twitch slightly upwards.

How stupid was she? Normalcy was an impossible dream from the start, and she had yet to realize it until now. . .

Her smile digressed into a frown.

"_Furukawa, you're a coward."_

She was simply hiding under a veil of fake shields and reassuring words; and ultimately, the most hazardous and unassuming force manage to crawl its way into her life and ruin it.

"_You're disgusting."_

How troublesome.

The smile didn't crawl back, but something bubbled in her stomach. She let him crawl in. _She_ was the one who had exploded into fits of laughter and made it her obligation to bring him—a stranger with no connections but the fearsome rumors surrounding him all the time—down with her. Sooner or later, whatever force she'll end up in because of him will be the cause of her downfall, because she will stay until the end. Because the enigma that had grabbed her wrists and ran with her like no tomorrow had provoked her, and she took it further. And ultimately, Furukawa Koto assured herself that whatever downfall she will meet will be his downfall as well, because she'll make him see the first of it. Because from all of the conversations they had and the strange scenarios that had occurred, she had realized something.

Orihaya Izaya had limited his love to humanity.

Though most likely stupid and the last theory to be considered, it was precisely the fact that the topic was never brought up for discussion between anyone. Surprising, almost, when she had found out that Orihara Izaya did not know how to _love_—but he did observe, predict, act, manipulate, and then convert it all into a motion of weird syllables and distraught human emotions—and that was his love.

Somewhere, in a sense, it was similar to her—

No. She was normal. . .

She was on the borderline range of climbing down the norm and breaching the walls of un-normalcy.

_Noted_, she reminded herself.

Koto was not stupid, but she was inexperienced. Never involving herself in anyone's business unless absolutely necessary, which was rarer than seeing spiders in her apartment (and she would like to keep it that way). Rarely was she the one to initiate the moments of conversation between them. Everything was all done by Izaya.

Honestly, despite the fact that Koto proclaimed her "promise" to him the other day, she never entertained in the idea that Orihara Izaya would act upon their double-sided. . .relationship (she couldn't think of a word to describe the foreign notions) immediately. It was too fast for her up to the point where she couldn't theorize a result, and therefore, was left to divulge the very few information from their meetings.

Actually, their meetings were most definitely not _coincidental_. First, right after her confession, the only thing he had done was walk her home, and then the day after that, she met him once again._ Always_ in the most unexpected of places. In the park, near the restrooms, in the changing stalls of clothing stores that she would come to from time to time, waltzing into her life casually with a "Oh Koto-chan, what a coincident!"

_Coincident my ass, _she grumbled.

All of those meetings were staged. Despite the fact that it may have seemed to be coincidental to the human eye, Koto knew for a fact that they were purely planned out. His overly-obvious movements which practically screamed to her as a warning "I know where you are." She was still slightly perturbed that Izaya knew where she was going at all times (perhaps, she should check her clothes for tracking devices again). And then it came. Just like today, there came the long and arduous visits to her house, and it usually started with him threatening her to break the door open, and then she would call him and tell him that she would be there in a minute. And then after that, questions. The endearing yet annoying notion of questions were born right in the middle of their conversations. So they divulged in it (Izaya more so than Koto), waiting for each other to carefully choose their words (although Izaya looked as natural as ever), and they would calculate any sign; any misstep, any blunder that could result into something much bigger. Their questions were were in a large range—varying every time. Izaya would obviously avoid the topic with another question, and Koto would answer each as modestly but opaquely as possible.

There wasn't really anything interesting to know about her. Other than the events in high school, living life in normalcy pretty much made the bulk of everything else. So Orihara Izaya would usually ask questions, hopefully ones that would cause her to act up, but she resisted it. She didn't really like lying, honestly, it didn't sit well with her. So in order to focus the world all the way—180 degrees all the way back to the entity known as Orihara Izaya, she had asked him a question that hit the "jackpot." She had asked him why he liked toying with humans so much. Living a normal life, observing normal people, shouldn't he be normal as well?

And he responded with an answer that she thought was lovely.

"_Because I love humans. You should be able to relate, ne, Koto-chan?"_

_She slowly nodded._

_He asked her why she like observing people._

"_Because I think they're interesting."_

That was probably the only moment of mutuality shared between them—almost to a point where it had become pleasant. . .Until he decided to land her a bomb.

"_What do classrooms remind you of?"_

And at that time, an unknown force drove her to answer with as much honesty as she possessed, because Furukawa Koto disliked lying.

"_My mistake with colors."_

And all of this happened in the span of two weeks._ Two. Fucking. Weeks._

Unable to stand the edginess that made her feel like a "deer in the headlights," she abruptly sat up, stumbled out of her room, yanked her apartment door open, and left with it slamming shut.

The situation was going a bit too fast for her to comprehend, but she understood one thing. Orihara Izaya does not comprehend "love" as deeply as other people do.

So in order to do that, she would have to make Orihara Izaya experience that _love_ for himself. . .

_How cheesy, _she scratched her head.

It also had an unlikely outcome.

Koto stepped onto the sidewalks.

It was also the only option. She had no power. No large business that would ruin or benefit her. No enemies that would make her life miserable. She only owned the occupation of painting and that managed to keep her afloat. Unless Orihara Izaya wanted to ruin her job (which was highly unlikely, since he wouldn't benefit from any of that unless it was to see her move out of Ikebukuro), then she, a small leaf in the large storm of calamity could only do the one thing that could possibly amuse her life, and at the same time, destroy it.

"_Wherever there is danger, there lurks opportunity; wherever there is opportunity, there lurks danger. The two are inseparable." (1)_

All of that just to see Ikebukuro's strongest on his knees. All of that just for the risks of observation.

Koto sighed. She should really consider seeing a therapist. . . .

Then again, she reminded herself, she supposed that she wasn't normal either.

Then again, this would mean that she would have to accept his offer. . .

Then again, this was just another unhealthy indication that she should not get involved with Izaya fucking Orihara.

But then again, that warning came too late.

* * *

He walked through the streets of Ikebukuro, cigarette in between his lips, his new bartender uniform fitting snugly on his lean figure.

Heiwajima Shizuo was a peace lover. Another human of society that simply wished for the calm before anything else.

Instinctively, he wrenched a light pole from the ground and swung it a marvelous five feet that just barely missed its target.

The people of Ikebukuro desperately searched for refuge.

"_I-za-ya!" _Shizuo ignored the smug look on Izaya Orihara's face and barreled towards the flea. It was impractical. Izaya Orihara was anything but the calm.

"Shizu-chan," Izaya said affectionately, "I didn't know you were expecting me."

Heiwajima Shizuo was a peace lover. He disliked violence and tried his best to put on the very few restraints on himself whenever he was angered. But like every human being, Shizuo had limits. And those limits were shattered once Izaya Orihara brought out his flick-blade and held a defensive stance.

Shizuo roared.

* * *

Furukawa Koto seemed to have stood with the same impassive face for at least a few minutes. She went through a list of things that she was planning to do.

Number one: Go out and take a walk.

Number two: Enjoy the relaxing walk.

Number three: Visit Izaya and make sure that he knows that she's going to accept the offer before he pulls a crazy stunt and forces her to owe him a favor.

Number four: Don't get into trouble.

Clearly, rule number four was breached, and every fiber in her body was spitting out _Red Alert._

There they stood; sticking out gloriously in between all of the flying light poles and shredded clothes were two of Ikebukuro's fiercest yet again. As if taken out right from an action movie, smoke covered most of the area as the civilians distressed over the everyday occurrence and thugs made way for the impending omens.

Koto felt a breeze hit her, then a hand over her waist as the other lunged with the flick-blade. There she felt the strange sense of déjà vu. She blinked, making sure her face didn't betray her exasperation.

_Are you serious? _She thought as her head trailed up to the dark-haired figure that was currently holding her hostage—_again._

"Izaya-san." She said impassively, eyeing the barely noticeable claw marks on his cheek.

He smiled silkenly. "Hi, Koto-chan!"

"Uh, hi." She lowered her eyes to where his hand was. If she asked him to let her go, he would obviously see her distress. . .not like he hasn't already.

Izaya ignored her awkwardness and stared straight ahead at Shizuo, loosely holding her since he knew that she wouldn't dare run away. She was too much of a coward to do that.

Koto felt Shizuo eye her—or rather, the person behind her.

"Izaya, you damn coward." He growled. Koto felt a smile grow on the figure behind her.

"Izaya-san," Koto craned her head around, "I need to tell you something."

"Oh, really?" He purred.

"I'll do it."

"Do what?"

Koto stared at him modestly, "You know what I mean."

A moment passed. Izaya whistled. "That was fast. I didn't expect you for another day or so."

So he _did_ know. Koto returned his response with a skeptical stare.

Meanwhile, Heiwajima Shizuo's flame didn't simmer.

"I-za-ya."

In fact, it seemed to have grown larger, and Koto's eyes widened up to the point where she looked like a deer in the headlights. Izaya smiled.

"Izaya-san." she started uneasily.

"Wait," he hummed, hand still encircled around her wrist.

"_Izaya!" _Heiwajima Shizuo lunged, unable to set his restraints, unable to draw anymore calm as his eyes were solely focused on the black-haired flea. His day had been shitty. Apparently, someone decided that it would be fun to provoke him by spilling coffee onto his uniform earlier. and it turned into an even shittier one with this meeting.

"_IZAYA!"_

The whole entire area blazed with raw fury and exasperation, burning up the whole area in a swarm of exhaltations and war cries that suddenly cascaded down the drain in a matter of seconds; the adrenaline pumping, the fury blazing up an inferno.

Shizuo saw white. Orihara Izaya heard a crack as his hands left her waist and he slipped away with a smile. Furukawa Koto felt pain blooming in her arm.

Izaya was nowhere to be seen.

Koto cringed.

As if a switch had been turned off, everything had been drained, and everything had been set back into reality. White turned into the color of destroyed pavement and stores; the raging inferno turned into dying embers, and in between everything, Heiwajima Shizuo stood there, light pole nowhere near his hands anymore as he hovered over the crumpled figure on her knees, seemingly taking a blank interest at the ground. He stared almost dazedly, running over everything that had happened before the girl came in and acted like a human shield.

A human shield which _he_ destroyed.

"I. . ." Shizuo faltered, eyes glazing over the girl that was doubled over on the ground and clutching her arm. He ceased whatever words that were planning to come out of his mouth and swallowed them whole.

Meanwhile, Koto kept her eyes open dazedly, inhaling deeply as she tried not to wince. "Uh, Heiwajima-san," she said impassively. Shizuo shifted.

"Could you help me up?"

Shizuo froze for a moment, keeping his eyes slightly wider than before, then hiding them under his bangs. "Yeah."

"Thanks."

He paused for a moment, then grabbed her other arm as tenderly as possible. Mechanically, his brain was in motion, running its gears, ignoring the way the darker part of it cursed jumbled up profanities thrown everywhere.

_She's light, _he thought, and cautiously brought her left arm around his shoulder. He turned his head over to look at her. Messy hair, brown eyes that narrowed slightly in pain. He shifted their position again. She relaxed slightly in his grip, her right arm slightly twisted the wrong way as it bounced limply around her scraped thighs.

They walked.

* * *

A/N: So. . . .yea

Hope you guys enjoyed this!

Izaya falling in love. . . .nope, can't imagine that xD Please tell me if this is too cheesy. No, really. I want to know (**) xD

1.)"Wherever there is danger, there lurks opportunity; wherever there is opportunity, there lurks danger. The two are inseparable." The quote is by Earl Nightingale.

Happy almost St. Patrick's Day everyone!

Til next time~


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